


7th Kiss is Lucky

by PhantomCookie



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Caryl, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-07-29 15:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7690396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomCookie/pseuds/PhantomCookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of the 7 kisses between Carol & Daryl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, you have to have some working knowledge of TWD to understand this story because I'm not going to explain everything.

“Hey now!” Daryl barked, “You ought not be playin’ out here so far from camp!”

The girl ran past Daryl laughing and not listening to what he was saying. It didn’t seem like anyone in this _damn_ camp heeded what he said which was a _damn_ shame since he was one of the only people with their head on straight.

“Damn kid ain’t my damn problem,” Daryl muttered to himself, shaking his head out of annoyance. She darted past him in the other direction, chasing a butterfly or some _stupid_ thing. Who even knew what kids did for fun? Why weren’t her _damn_ parents watching their _damn_ kid? Didn’t they know what the regular dangers of this world were let alone the dangers of the dead coming to life to make quick snack of their little angel?

The way Daryl saw it people in the camp were getting overconfident. They hadn’t seen one of _them_ in a few days, but Daryl knew that besides the dead ones you couldn’t trust living people either. Who knows what creeps were in this camp. Daryl sighed.

“Lil girl?” he called against his better judgment.

She ran up to him, “Hello, sir.”

_Well at least the kid had manners._

“Listen, ya shouldn’t be up here. It’s not safe!” Daryl growled.

“Sorry sir,” she lowered her eyes, and took a step away from him.

“Naw, it’s alright, ya don’t have to call me 'sir' ya can call me Daryl. I’ll take ya back to yer mamma,” he said softening his voice. _Damn, he didn’t mean to scare the poor kid_ , “You need to stick close to yer mamma, and don’t get outta her sight.”

“Okay, Daryl,” the girl said quietly, “I’m Sophia.”

“Hey, hey!” Came a voice from between the trees, “Looky what I got us!” Merle emerged carrying a large raccoon. He squinted when he saw the child, “You two girls playin’ hopscotch?”

Daryl ignored the jab, “I gotta take her back to her folks. She shouldn’t be out here.”

Merle moved in close to Daryl and dropped his voice, “I heard her daddy yellin’ at her mamma before we was leavin’. I’m bettin’ that’s why the girl’s run off.”

Daryl grumbled, unsure what to do next. He sure as _hell_ couldn’t let her run around in the woods, and he knew he wasn’t going to be the one to watch her neither, “I’ll see what the situation is. I can take care o’ that sumbitch, if I need to.”

“Pfft,” Merle groaned, “You don’t want to get involved in that bullshit. It’s that lady’s business if she wants to take that.”

Daryl’s eyes went dark, “I’m not gonna let no kid get hurt.” _Damn, this is a bad situation whatever he did this little girl was in harm’s way._ He never wanted to be the person who put someone in this situation, or worse, the one who turned a blind eye.

“I’m tellin’ ya, baby brother, do NOT get involved. It ain’t your business. That mamma of hers she is easy on the eyes, she’s probably a good piece o' _you know what_ , but it ain’t worth it.”

“Don’t talk like that in front o' her kid!” Daryl growled in rare defiance of Merle.

“I didn’t say A-S-S,” Merle said.

“You are an A-S-S,” Daryl said as he spit on the ground, shaking his head, “Why would ya even be thinking like that? I’m just tryin’ to help this girl. Your mind is always about 20 feet below the gutter.”

Merle gave him a look that never ceased to piss off Daryl. It was a look that said, I know you better than you know yourself, and I can see right through you.  The truth is Merle was wrong. He wasn’t even sure he’d be able to identify the kid’s mom in a lineup. She was forgettable. He _did_ remember her asshole husband though, and truth be told he wished he did have an excuse to punch that dick right in the face.

“Come on, Sophia,” he said, and the little girl followed close behind, leaving Merle with his raccoon.

They walked toward camp. Daryl was not sure what he was going to see when he arrived but he was ready for anything. _Hell,_ maybe he was even looking for a fight.  Things had been pretty dull, and it would do his soul well to beat up someone who deserved it. He clenched his fist thinking about it. He looked down at the girl, and sighed knowing he had to restrain his anger for her sake. He wondered how such an ugly prick got such a pretty and sweet daughter.

“I can spell, you know,” Sophia said.

“What?” Daryl was pulled from his thoughts.

“A-S-S spells ass,” the girl said.

Daryl laughed, “Well I guess it does. See, my brother ain’t so smart, so he figures other people are dumb like him.” He didn’t often put down his brother. Merle was family, and in a lot of ways all he had ever had, but he felt irritated at his brother's insinuations in front of the girl.

“I like you,” the girl said.

“You don’t even _know_ me,” Daryl responded as they made their way up a steep hill, “You gotta be less trusting, kid. That’s the shit that will get you killed in this world.”

“Yeah, but I have seen you before. I’m not dumb. I can tell you are a good person,” Sophia insisted.

“Pfff,” Daryl rolled his eyes.

“But your brother might be an A-S-S,” she said and broke into a fit of giggles.

“Don’t be cussin’ in front of yer mamma,” Daryl said, “She’ll blame me.”

“I won’t,” the girl promised, and then she shrieked. When Daryl looked he saw that one of them dead freaks was making its way out of the ground half buried. Someone must have not had the good sense to make sure their dead weren't gonna turn before burying them, or maybe it was from before anyone knew there was an outbreak. The freak was pretty well rotted, and looking nasty caked in dirt.

The girl took a step back, and before Daryl could even say a word she was toppling down the hill - the steep side. Daryl took out his hunting knife and quickly dispatched of their half buried friend and then half slid, half ran down the hill after Sophia, who was crumpled at the bottom in tears.

“Lil' girl, are ya okay?” Daryl asked, annoyed at the panicked sound in his own voice. This is why he didn’t want to watch this _damn_ kid. He knew he ain’t no babysitter.

She was holding her leg and crying. At first, Daryl thought she might have broken it but then saw it was all scraped up and bleeding from the fall down the hill. He looked carefully at it, and criticized, “Ya gotta watch where yer goin'!”

She started crying harder. Daryl inwardly chided himself for yelling at her, and rubbed his forehead. He took a closer look at her leg and saw there was a piece of glass lodged below her knee, “Shit.”

“Sophia,” he said, getting her to look at him, “I gotta take this piece of glass out and it’s gonna hurt, stay still.”

The girl cried harder yet, but obeyed. Daryl, as carefully as possible dislodged the glass, but cut his finger all to hell in the process rather than to make it more painful for her. It was only a small cut but it wouldn’t stop bleeding.

The girl was calming down, more focused on Daryl’s injury now, “Are you hurt, Daryl?”

“I’m fine,” Daryl said, “it’s just bleedin’ like a son of a...just bleedin’ a lot.”

He reached his good hand down to help her up, “Can ya walk okay?”

She took his hand and stood up, “Yeah, I’m good, just scraped up.”

“Let’s get ya back to yer mamma,” Daryl said and they started back up the hill, and made their way to the camp in silence. Daryl could already see the girl’s mother. Some of the other ladies seemed to be comforting her and that prick was nowhere in sight. Just as well.

“My mom can fix you up, too,” Sophia said, “She has band-aids.”

Daryl sniffed. No way, was he gonna hang around in that situation for long. That was just askin’ for trouble. Trouble he could handle but that he didn’t want to bring down on that woman and her kid. The mother spotted them and came running toward them. Her hand was clutching her heart and she looked teary eyed.

“Sophia!” she shouted, crouching down in front of her, “There you are! Don’t run off like that!”

“I’m sorry mom,” Sophia said, “I didn’t...”

“I’m just glad you’re alright, but what happened to your leg?” she was hugging the girl so tight that Daryl almost felt bad, and then he saw a red mark on the woman's face. That bastard had either slapped or punched her and she would have a black eye, no doubt, by the morning. He’d seen it before.

“I fell down and scraped up my leg. Daryl helped me,” She said motioning to Daryl who shrugged.

“Thank you,” the woman said, standing up and putting her hand on his shoulder. Daryl took a step backward, instinctively, and she gave him an inquisitive look.

Daryl immediately noticed her eyes. He hadn’t taken a second glance at her before, but her eyes were actually quite interesting, so big and open - kinda pretty. Daryl shook his head. _Goddamn Merle was getting into his head, why in the fuck was he looking at this lady’s eyes._

“Let’s clean you up,” the lady said to her girl.

“You gotta fix Daryl, too. He cut up his finger helping me,” she smiled at him.

“Come on,” the woman said motioning to her tent, “I got a bandage for your finger, Mister.”

Daryl shuffled behind her, standing awkwardly outside of her tent, and wanting desperately to retreat, but for some reason he was compelled to follow them. He watched Sophia get her wounds cleaned and bandaged. He found himself studying the woman. She had a very soft way about her that was very comforting. He wasn’t sure what he felt about her, as a general rule he didn’t care about anyone in this _damn camp_ , but he found himself looking at her and feeling sad, and also angry for her situation. She definitely didn’t deserve the hand she was dealt.

He felt even more bad for the little girl. The woman could leave the man, maybe, but the little girl was born into this life with no choice. He thought about his own childhood home and wondered if that asshole was hitting his little girl as well as his wife. He shuddered at the thought.

The woman took his hand suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts. He fought the urge to pull away from her as she swabbed his finger with a little alcohol square and blew on it like he was a child. It did sting like hell, and her breath was oddly soothing, but he felt silly. She handed him a bandage which he applied himself so he didn’t feel totally ridiculous.

“All better?” the woman asked with a hint of a smile. Daryl should have already left but felt transfixed watching her. She bent down and kissed her daughter’s knee right on the bandage where Daryl had fished out the piece of glass, “The kiss always helps the pain to go away. It’s magic.”

“Kiss Daryl’s, too,” Sophia said.

The woman laughed nervously and her face flushed, but shrugged, looking to Daryl. He obligingly held out his hand feeling like a damn fool, and she gave him the tiniest kiss on the tip of his finger. Daryl could feel his face grow hot right up to the tips of his ears.

“Thank you, Daryl,” The woman said, and his name on her lips affected him in a way he couldn’t explain. He scowled at her, and she said, “If there’s anything you ever need just ask.”

He mumbled something about Merle, and made a hasty exit.

Daryl stormed back out of camp. He was angry and he didn’t know why. He was not sure if he was more upset because he was worried for that girl, or that he Merle had made him think thoughts about that woman. He sure knew he wanted to beat the shit out of her prick husband. The worst part is that when she kissed his finger he had felt something for her. He didn’t understand why but he felt that the moment held weight, like it had importance.

 _How was a married lady and kid going to factor into his life?_ Well they weren’t. That was just that. Fuck that lady for being nice to him, and fuck her for letting that asshole hit her. Daryl didn’t want to care about anyone. He wasn’t going to care about someone too stupid to help herself. Merle was right. It wasn't worth the trouble.


	2. The Second Kiss

Daryl buried his face in the pillow but it had an unfamiliar smell and all he was thinking about was getting out of this damn room. He would be back out tomorrow looking for the little girl if he could, and who was going to stop him? No one cared what Daryl did. No one would notice. And if they did? _He didn’t give a shit._

He felt weary – a tiredness that went deeper than some sleep would cure, and when had been the last time he’d slept a full night? How could anyone sleep with that lost girl in the woods? Guilt crept into his mind even for his injury, and he liked to stomp out that feeling with action. Yet, here he was lying doing nothing’!

He was hungry but that was in the back of his mind because his stomach felt sick. Though not well acquainted with the almighty, he felt like he would pray to any god – real or imagined – to catch a break...but the god of good luck had never been on his side.

Daryl thought he _had c_ aught a break when Carol’s prick of a husband met his welcome end. That might sound like a shitty attitude but he was happy to see him go, and the truth was that she seemed more relieved than sad. No one in the camp was exactly _grieved_ by his departure. Not that he cared for the woman, but he did care about that little girl.

_“_ _I like you,” the girl_ _had_ _told him_ _._

_“You don’t even know me,” Daryl hand responded._

Sophia was too good for her own good, and all he wanted to do was to bring her back to her mamma. He wanted to see her mamma smile her pretty smile again. He didn’t think much about Carol _in that way_ , but he started feeling sorry for her. Maybe it was the way she always looked at him like she was on the verge of tears, or maybe it was that since the day he helped her girl she was paying more attention to him. Mostly, it was because he couldn’t stand to see a woman stay with an asshole who beat her, and he felt relieved that she wasn’t facing that anymore, but now she was facing something worse...her daughter was missing.

Daryl rolled over. He couldn’t get comfortable, _hell, he couldn’t rest his own mind._ He couldn’t catch a break.

It wasn’t that he was going to move in on this woman, nothing like that _at all_. He wasn’t going to try to jump in the sack with her now that the husband was gone. This is what Merle would say if he saw him helping her find her girl – that he had an ulterior motive. He couldn’t help but notice that she did have a nice figure under her frumpy clothes, that was true, but there were other priorities in this world, and while everyone else might be playing lovey-dovey he had other ideas. Maybe if she wasn’t always staring at him with her big searching eyes he could leave it be.

Naw, but she did need protecting. She was weak, and no one seemed to notice her. Daryl also observed that she put everyone else ahead of her own self, and they seemed to take that for granted. Someone had to keep her safe, and everyone else in the camp had their head firmly up their ass. He had failed her already, by not keeping her daughter safe. He meant to make amends.

When Sophia went missing, Daryl’s heart sank lower than he could have foreseen. Carol’s cries of despair tugged at his heart with surprising ferocity, and he searched. No one else seemed to be making this girl a priority, but the truth is Daryl would have done anything to quiet Carol’s heart wrenching sobs. All the while everyone else in camp was consumed with stupid shit, and he was just hoping for a little luck.

He thought if anyone deserved to smile it was Carol who probably hadn’t had anything to smile about her whole life. He might not be the praying kind, but surely there was a god who looked out for heartbroken mothers and lost children. The cynical side of him knew this wasn’t true, but there was another side that said if you flip a coin enough times eventually it has to land on heads.

So he had brought her a flower, meant to give her hope in the meantime. It didn’t matter if he’d never given a flower to anyone before in his life. It meant something now, because it kept her hope alive, and in that way he could keep it alive in himself. He was doing _something_ positive, and any day maybe he’d catch a break.

Daryl sighed.

He heard the door open behind him. He looked over his shoulder figuring it was the old man coming back to check on him.

_Oh god, it was her._

_H_ _e didn’t want her to see him like this. Why was she bothering him?_ He pulled the sheet up as high as he could. She was looking at him with her huge eyes.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. _Why did she care how he was feeling? How did she think he felt. He felt like shit._

“About as good as I look,” he said rolling away from her, hoping she’s get the tone and go, but of course, she didn’t.

“Brought you some dinner. You must be starvin’,” she said, and he could see she was carrying a tray of food. He got the uneasy feeling that he always got when she was doing something for him. He knew that she didn’t want anything she was just being nice, but it was such a foreign concept to him that he felt suspicious of it. She was quiet for a moment and he thought she had left the room.

He then felt her lean over him which surprised the hell out of him, and he flinched unsure of what she was doing. He felt her cool lips settle on his temple, in a quick kiss. Any appetite he might have had completely left him as his stomach lurched. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling but her kindness was as foreign as if she started speaking French to him. He didn’t know how to respond.

“Watch out I got stitches,” he mumbled, instantly cursing himself in his head for saying something so idiotic.

“You need to know something,” she said, and every muscle in his body tensed, waiting for the blow. She was going to tell him how disappointed she was in him, and what a loser he was, but before he could think too much she was already continuing, “You did more for my little girl today than her own daddy ever did in his whole life.”

Daryl had braced for a punch to his ego, and when it didn’t come, he realized there was nothing in him that knew how to respond to a kind word. He said, “I didn’t do anything Rick or Shane wouldn’t have done.”

“I know. You’re Every bit as good as them. Every bit.” her sweet voice was so sincere, and he almost wanted to believe her. He thought about what she said for a moment, trying to absorb the words, but he found it difficult to trust. He wasn’t sure if she had left but when she said nothing further he got the courage to look over his shoulder again and she was gone.

He felt... _damn, he didn’t know what he felt, but it was somethin’_. He just wanted to scoop that woman up and protect her, and he wanted, _no he needed_ to find that little girl for her. His frustration level, simmering so far seemed like it was on the edge of boiling over.He threw off the sheet and quickly put on his shirt, and went after her. It was an impulse, and if he had time to think of what he was doing he’d have never gone.

He was a little unsteady on his feet, but made his way quickly outside, glancing to see if she was in the kitchen on his way out. He saw her as soon as he was on the porch. She was clutching her shoulders and walking slowly away from the farm house. He had the sudden urge to kiss her properly, and it shocked him. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly wanted to, but oh, he definitely wanted to. He was taken aback by his own feelings and wanted to go back into the house.

Before he could move Carol must have heard him and she spun around, startled.

“Daryl?” she said, her voice was shaky, and he saw she was crying.

“I...” he trailed off, “I just wanted to say thank ya for bringin’ me some food. Ya didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” Carol said with a sad smile “Someone’s gotta take care of you.”

Daryl took a step back as if he was slapped, “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I take care of myself!”

Carol turned fully toward him, but seemed to shrink away emotionally, and he hated himself in that moment. Her red rimmed eyes saw right through him. “Why don’t you say what’s on your mind.”

“Didn’t mean to yell at ya,” Daryl softened his voice, “I’m not used to someone carin’ what happens to me is all.”

Carol tilted her head slightly. He wanted to be mad at her for pitying him, but he didn’t think she was. She narrowed her eyes, “Do you want to come sit with me?”

Daryl nodded, and she lead him to a bench in the garden. He was really out of his league and unsure what he was doing, but as always he found himself compelled to follow her. There was something about Carol that drew him like their lives where somehow laced together with an invisible thread. The only way he could explain it was that being near her made him feel steady.

She turned to him, and he felt very visible - like she taking him apart piece by piece and examining the contents, “You should know that I’m not used to people caring about me either. I’m really touched by how much you’ve helped me look for Sophia.”

Daryl dropped his head, “Ain’t nothin’”

“That’s not true, and we both know it,” Carol turned her head from him, “Everyone is giving up except you. Sophia likes you. She talks a lot about you.”

Daryl was stunned. He hadn’t talked to the little girl, but maybe once or twice. “She’s a sweet girl.” Even as he was saying the words he knew. Knew that the little girl would not be found, and that he was searching for Carol’s peace of mind more than anything. He cared about this woman, maybe a lot more than he was willing to admit and it hit him in that moment. He looked at her with a new sadness that he hoped she couldn’t read. It was important that she keep hope alive.

Daryl realized that he was afraid that if she lost hope he would lose her, too. If she thought her daughter was dead maybe she would just… “I’ll find her.” he barely got it out because his mouth was so dry.

She looked at him sadly, “If you don’t...”

“I will!” he said.

She took his hand and squeezed it gently as if comforting him. Her hands felt cool & soft, and he regretted his palms which were sweaty. He looked into her eyes, and knew he had to convince her. “I will,” he repeated as he pulled his hand away.


	3. The Third Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this one! Another familiar scene, almost.

Clack.

Just a dull thud in the stone. Echoing the dull thud in Daryl’s head.

Clack.

Daryl stabbed the floor in frustration again, knowing what he had to do, and not having the courage to do it. He had banged the back of his head into the wall until he had his current blinding headache, but it didn’t dull the pain ripping him apart so he opted for smashing _the knife_ into the cement.

Clack. 

_Her knife. Her knife. Her knife!_

Clack. Clack. Clack. 

Daryl wasn’t even sure how long he’d been down here, afraid that he would find her, and afraid that he wouldn’t. Knowing that she was defenseless without _her knife._

Clack. 

And knowing that you don’t ever catch a break in this world.

 Clack.

And knowing that she was probably in the cell across from him. And that it would be her, but it wouldn’t be her.

Clack.

Failing her. Again. _Again._ _Again….Again…..Again_

Clack.

_Tried so hard not to think about it. Never think about how much I’m…_

Clack.

_...empty. But that cell is NOT empty. Not at all. Can’t handle this._

Clack. _  
_

Daryl put his head in his hands. How had he not been able to protect Carol? He tried so hard, but it felt like he had so much to juggle and something was always slipping through the cracks. How did he let the most important person to him slip through the cracks? Real men didn’t make mistakes like this. He gripped _her knife_ tightly in his fist, feeling it, so he wouldn’t feel the pain.

Clack.

 He thrust the knife back into the floor.

Clack.

And now what? He can’t cry. There’s no time to mourn. And what even was she to him? She wasn’t his girlfriend like Maggie is to Glenn. She wasn’t his wife like Lori was to Rick. _She was his Carol._ She made him steady.

Clack.

He laid a flower on her empty grave because they couldn’t find her, but privately he thought maybe... _maybe_ there was a chance she was still out there. He knew hopin’ and prayin’ didn’t get you nowhere, and so the pebble of hope sank to the bottom of his murky heart like a secret guilty pleasure.

Clack.

And then he found _her knife._

Clack.

 How that hope threatened to burst out in that moment! He had to bite it back, and lock it up tight, because God laughed at that shit. Hope was the cheese in the mouse trap known as fate. So, it was no surprise when he tracked her to solitary confinement.

 Clack.

And she is in that cell. He knows it ain’t just another walker in there, it’s her, or what used to be her. He knows because of the dull, mindless thudding against the door, and because he is such a _damn good tracker._ He knows he ain’t wrong.

Clack.

Good tracker. What a joke. He should have found her before she was dead.

Clack.

Should have found her girl - before she was dead.

Clack.

He failed her.

He pulled up all of his courage and slammed the knife into the wall twice, and leapt to his feet, kicking the wall in frustrating, but still, it was so hard to make the effort to that door. He paced back and forth trying to psych himself up. Every muscle was tensed, and he could sense everything. He felt the jingle of jail keys against his thigh, heard his own breath loud in his ears, saw every dirty detail of the last corridor Carol ever saw alive. His eyes burned.

He put the knife in his mouth so that he could use both hands to drag the body that was blocking the door away, and caught the scent of the lotion she wore, and he almost broke down wondering if she would still smell like that lotion when he had to end her, or if she would just be decaying like the rest of them. _Not his Carol anymore_. Horrific images flashed through his head, one worse than the next as he tore the cell door open ready to strike.

He recoiled his hand about to lunge forward, but something wasn’t right, and he wavered. she was sitting there weakly and she was still her, and his heart did a funny thing. Everything went out of focus for a moment. He thought he must be losing it because how could she be alive?

  _Just like that his coin had landed on heads._

He reached down and touched her chin, and she peered up at him with her blue eyes, looking very lost. It was Carol, and she was alive, and he wasn’t too late. He could have fallen to his knees and thanked God for finally giving him some good luck, but he had to get her out of there. She didn’t look okay.

He scooped her up in his arms. She was so tiny and frail and didn’t barely weigh a thing. He carried her quickly out of the solitary wing. She passed out in his arms, and he was very worried that she might be in worse shape than he thought. _What if she was bit? What if she was too far gone?_ His mind raced with terrible ideas.

His heart lurched at the thought. _No! Hell No_ was God going to give her back just to take her away again.

“Carol,” he said softly, but she didn’t respond. _Fuck._

He felt like she was burning up in his arms, and he bent and softly kissed her forehead - something his mamma used to do to see if he had a fever. He smelled her lotion under her feverish skin. His lips lingered for a moment, but he drew away. He did this partly to check her temperature, but mostly because he was so overwhelmed with finding her and afraid she might die. He wanted to feel her skin under his lips just once. She didn’t stir.

When he got into a main alley he laid her down carefully on a bench. Daryl knew he’d go crazy if he didn’t check to make sure she wasn’t bit. He was so worried about this that he couldn’t go on until he knew. He crouched down next to her, and her eyes fluttered open.

 “Daryl,” she whispered, “it’s really you.”

 He was still looking her over but asked, “Are you bit?”

 “Thirsty,” Carol rasped, “Not bit.”

 “Think ya got a fever,” Daryl said.

 “Do you have any chocolate?” Carol asked.

 “What?” Daryl almost laughed at her unexpected question.

 “If I’m dying I want some chocolate,” she gave him a half smile.

 “You’re not dyin’,” he replied, but his voice broke when he said it, “We’re gonna get you back up there and you can rest. You need water, and food. And I’ll find you chocolate if you just shut up about dyin’”

 Carol smiled a genuine smile, but it was tired. He sat down next to her on the floor to rest before they continued back to their cell block.

He thought about all their group had lost, and there was still so much sadness, but the truth is that if was some cosmic balancing act he would have traded anyone in that group to save Carol.

The thought shamed him inwardly. Rick has lost his wife, and the mother of his children, and Daryl knew if he could ease his friend's suffering by swapping Carol for Lori he would never do it in a million years. What _that_ meant he hadn't even begun to think about. In the coin toss of life Rick had lost and Daryl had won.

Daryl still burned with guilt over not being able to return Carol's daughter to her, and the false promises he made. He knew he'd never be good enough for her because of this, but he would spend his life trying to make amends.  He hadn't come up lucky that day, but he did today.  

She interupted his thoughts.

“I had a dream,” Carol closed her eyes. Her voice was faint.

 Daryl did not want her to go back to sleep again so he kept her talking, “What was yer dream?”

 “I dreamed that you kissed me,” Carol said, opening one eye to gauge his reaction.

Daryl didn’t respond but he could feel his face get red up to his ears.

“Don’t worry,” Carol said, “I know it was a dream. Your honor is in tact.”

Daryl forced a laugh.

“Hey,” Carol said after a minute, “We’re all alone. I bet this is a good make-out spot.”

“Stop,” Daryl admonished. _God, he loved her._


	4. The Fourth Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter wherein Carol teases Daryl relentlessly. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

 Daryl saw Carol approaching from his peripheral. She was already smirking at him. He tried not to stare. She was unbearable, in the best possible way. He knew she was coming up with some smart-ass comment. He never had a come back for her, but she didn’t need one, apparently. She was fine with making him feel uncomfortable. It was embarrassing when they were around other people, but she was a helluva lot worse when they were alone.

She had taken to calling him pet names.

Everyday something new, and increasingly she upped the ante. Daryl had to admit he was cracking under the pressure, and he thought maybe he would make a move with her. Some days he wondered why he had waited for so long. Things had always been in the way, but lately there was room to breath, and he pictured himself wrapping his arms around her, kissing her, and lately he pictured many more things, and it was getting to the point where he would have to risk his ego to take the chance.

“Hey Boo Bear,” she said walking up to him with a cheeky grin, waiting for his response.

“Boo bear?” Daryl looked away so she didn’t see him hiding a half smile.

“I know you like it,” Carol said.

“Pumpkin was better,” Daryl deadpanned.

“That’s because you’re such a pumpkin,” she said, reaching up and touching his chin for emphasis.

Daryl tensed at her touch, but he settled into it. He looked at her, and she was gazing up at him with her beautiful blue eyes. She batted her lashes at him. He said, “Ya never quit.”

“I call it persistence to the cause,” she said, laughing.

Not knowing what that meant Daryl took out a cigarette, and lit up, taking a drag off of it. She leaned on the fence, and looked at him. He was enjoying her company, and _damn she looked pretty today._

“You didn’t offer me one,” she complained, motioning to his cigarette.

“Ya don’t smoke,” he said irritably. She was always trying to make him feel guilty for secret slights that she made up as she went along. It was part of her game.

“Still is rude,” Carol said, mischief danced in her eyes.

He was falling into some trap, he knew.

“Fine,” He said holding out the pack to her.

“No thanks. I only smoke after sex,” she said and winked.

Daryl could feel his face redden, despite the fact he knew she was going to say something to embarrass the hell out of him. He could think of a comeback, but he kept his mouth shut. One day he would surprise her though.

“And it’s been a long time since I’ve had a good smoke,” Carol said wistfully. He was having trouble focusing on anything with the way she was looking at him. She was coming onto him, and he was becoming more and more certain that she wasn’t just teasing him. He knew he wanted her badly. He just had to figure out how to get from here to there.

Things were good between them. They had an easiness, and growing affection. He missed her when they were apart, and he thought she missed him. She made him feel good, by always being there to welcome him when he got back from hunting, and doing small favors for him that he knew she wasn’t doing for the others. He needed to make things happen because he didn’t know how long he could stand crawling into his bed alone at night anymore.

_‘_ _I’m hopin’ I’m there for yer next smoke’ -THAT would have been his comeback._

Daryl took another drag on his cigarette, noticing a group of people watching them. For such a big place it seemed there were people everywhere, and he was feeling like he needed to get out. He needed to just talk to her about this, and see what happened, but there was always someone around. This afternoon they were going on a run together, just the two of them, and he intended to say something. It was all he could think about.

He dropped his cigarette and put it out with his toe, and knowing she would disapprove he picked the butt back up. “What time we goin’?”

“About that….”

Daryl sighed and his heart sank.

“I have things I have to do here. The pantry needs to be inventoried to see how much we have and what we need and Rick asked me to do that today, on top of a stacks and stacks of sewing…”

“Awright,” Daryl mumbled, feeling more hurt than he let on. It wasn’t a damn date, it was a run. _Stop acting like a wounded dog._

“I wanna go,” Carol said, and he knew she meant it, but then added coyly “but you will have to settle for making googly-eyes at Glenn.”

“So yer lettin’ me down easy, then,” Daryl said.

“Can’t get rid of me that easy, pumpkin,” she replied, “I was sent to tell you that Glenn wants to get an early start. He said he can be out of here in 10 minutes.”

Daryl frowned. So, not only was he losing his trip alone with Carol but now this conversation was about to be cut short so he could get ready to go. _Shit._ His disappointment felt so heavy on him. There was always something. He had hopes, and expectations that that was always a dangerous tightrope. He would talk to her later, after dinner, no matter what.

She lightly squeezed his hand and said that she needed to get inside, and he went and prepared to leave with Glenn.

Daryl was ready to go within 10 minutes but Glenn was nowhere so after a half hour he went to look for him. He sighed as he found him mooning over Maggie.

“Sorry,” Glenn said, “Just saying goodbye.”

“S’ok,” Daryl said, but he was very irritated since he’d cut his time with Carol short to get a move on with this trip. The sooner they left, the sooner they could come back, and then he was going to talk to Carol, and hopefully….

Glenn kissed Maggie one more time and she followed them out of the prison to see him off. A few people were milling about in the yard but Carol was no where to be found. He felt disappointed. She usually did say goodbye to him, but probably thought he already left. His good day, was not going well, and now he was just fed up with Glenn already watching him kiss and cuddle Maggie goodbye.

“Let’s go,” Daryl groused.

If it was just him and Carol he would have taken his bike, but since it was Glenn they took a car. Daryl was just about to get in the driver side when he heard his name being called. _Her voice._

She was waving from the prison, smiling.

He waved back and for a minute his heart swelled with pride, and then just like that she blew him a kiss.

Daryl turned away quickly to get into the car, trying to act like he didn’t see it.

“You gotta catch her kiss, man,” Glenn said.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” Daryl said over the roof of the car.

“You gotta, It’s Carol,” Glenn gave him the same look you’d give a small child.

Daryl reached up in the air, caught the kiss and shoved it into his pocket, “There. Ya happy now?”

“You are supposed to hold the kiss to your heart,” Glenn said, smirking.

“Shut up,” Daryl said smirking back.

“You gotta blow her a kiss back, now,” Glenn said the expression on his face indicating he thought this was all hilarious.

“Shut _the fuck_ up,” Daryl said, but couldn’t help laughing at Glenn.

He looked over at Carol and shook his head, but she seemed extremely pleased, and inwardly he was, too. Oh, the sweet humiliation of it all. She was killing him, and she knew it.

 

 

The run didn’t go as expected. They got into a very tight situation with a herd of walkers and Daryl ended up being thankful Glenn was with him instead of Carol. He didn’t want anyone in danger, but he thought Glenn could probably handle himself better, and the thought of losing her was unimaginable.

Of course Glenn was giving him hell about Carol the whole trip, but he almost didn’t care this time. He didn’t really argue because he was thinking maybe by tomorrow they would be together, if things went right...if luck when his way. He knew sometimes you did get lucky, and your coin did land on heads, and maybe some things were meant to be. He felt very good about his odds.

One thing lead to another and they ended up getting back to the prison very late, probably after midnight. He imagined that _maybe_ she’d be awake right up until he walked to her cell, and saw her sleeping soundly. Her back was to him. She was turned to the wall with her covers pulled up all the way, and he watched her soft breathing for a moment.

Daryl had the urge to go wake her up, and confess his feelings in the quiet of the night with everyone else asleep, but he found he couldn’t cut the silence. Whispered confessions would echo in these walls. He longed to take her by surprise with a kiss. _Screw talking! hadn’t they talked enough?_ But he couldn’t seem to get the courage to take a step toward her. He sighed.

Daryl lifted his hand to the bar, watching her a moment more before walking back to his own bed. _Tomorrow, there was always tomorrow._


	5. The Fifth Kiss

He was hungry. He was thirsty. He didn’t care about anything but he cared too much about everything. This is what it felt like when you let people in, and then they were ripped away from you. This is what it felt like when you had the audacity to care about people. This is what it felt like when you were a failure to people who trusted you.

The shame was too much for Daryl to bear.

He looked over at Carol. She was so far out of reach to him, walking beside him, but millions of miles away.

He wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her, if it would do any damn good.

She came up to him and started talking, but it was hard for him to focus on what she was saying as the pain inside of him was so sharp. Looking at her hurt him. He stared at her lips, saying something important to him he was sure, but he could only think about how he wanted to kiss those lips – not gently, and how he’d been fighting feelings for so long, and now everything had fallen apart.

It wasn’t appropriate. It wasn’t the right time to be thinking the things he was thinking, because they were driven by need, not love. He did love her. God knows he loved her deeper than anything, but he couldn’t feel it right now. He had a need for her, and it scared him. It was dark, and he was so empty inside. He simply didn’t want to be alone.

They walked on together through the tall grass. He remembered the last day everything had been okay, or thought it had been okay, before everyone started getting sick. He had plans back then, and now what did he have? Keeping watch over her so that she didn’t run away? Feeling like she was looking through him half the time? Pain so deep that it felt like he was drowning in it?

He was tired of trying.

When Rick told him that he had banished Carol out of the group, Daryl couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He didn’t think she was strong enough to go on her own...hell, he didn’t know if he was strong enough to go it alone. He could not believe how fast everything could go to hell, and before he could even look for her the prison was attacked and he ended up on the run with Beth.

But he couldn’t hold onto her – couldn’t keep her safe. She was taken shortly after they left the prison. He felt like he couldn’t do nothing right, and then he was on his own. He was shocked when he found Rick, Michonne, and Carl. It was horrible circumstances but they got through it, and it seemed like a sort of perverse miracle.

To say Terminus was a bad idea was an understatement, but he knew why he got lured into it. He thought maybe she was there. He should have never been so stupid to get taken prisoner by them. His emotions had made him weak. Wishin’ had given him a vulnerable spot, a soft underbelly.

Carol had saved them, and when he saw her every feeling came spiraling back to him. He wanted to tell her everything he had ever felt about her. How he loved her, and how he had missed her so much, how he couldn’t stop thinking about her, even when they were separated. He was so proud of her, so proud. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath since that day he lost her at the prison until he saw her and it knocked the wind out of him.

For a moment, everything fell into place. His coin fell to heads – or so he thought- he didn’t realize that the coin was still spinning, trying to make a decision on what it was going to do. He could have kissed her right there, but he didn’t. He knew as soon as he got her alone he would tell her everything, and then he would definitely kiss her even if she teased him – especially if she teased him. Then he would find some privacy and make love to her. In this moment, it was all clear, as he held her in his arms, and she was smiling at him through her tears.

But, of course, it hadn’t gone like that.

She was cold to him. She was different. Something had happened to her when she was gone, and something had changed in her heart. Had it changed toward him? or just in general? He didn’t know, but as time went on it didn’t get better.

She tried to run away! They found each other against all odds, and she was going to leave him without a goodbye. That hurt more than he could say to her. He would never leave her. He would never just walk away. He tried so hard not to be mad at her for her stupid decision that got her banished in the first place. Stupid decision? She killed innocent people. He couldn’t think about it, had to polish it off of his memory just to deal with everything.

He couldn’t help see sawing between thinking there was something wrong with her or that there was something wrong with him - something so undesirable that she couldn’t stand to be with him, and it was eating him up inside. She didn’t flirt; didn’t tease. She acted like she wasn’t there. He had no idea where his Carol was, but he missed her so bad, and he needed her right now.

And then a spark of hope when they had found Beth, or he thought they would find her. Fuckin’ hope. Did him in every time. Just when he was getting through to Carol, or he thought maybe he was, she was taken by the people who took Beth. He almost got them both back….almost.

But Beth was gone.

Another failure.

He shot the woman who killed Beth, and he couldn’t stop seeing that moment replayed in his head. It was a moment piled on top of so many horrible moments, and he didn’t feel like he could dig his way from under them. It was crushing him. What a failure he was for not being able to bring Maggie back her sister. There was guilt for that, and there was guilt because he knew that he went in to rescue two and one came out. He didn’t choose which one, he had to keep telling himself that he didn’t choose it, but he would have. He’d have chosen Carol if the choice had to be made, and there was a guilt to that, too. And for what? She was a broken shell of a person now.

All he could see when he closed his eyes was shooting that woman at the hospital. She looked so surprised. He saw Beth dying in front of him. She was so young, and the reason was so … pointless. Everything in this world was so pointless. You stayed alive. There was no right or wrong there was only alive or dead, because if you sit around pondering things too long, you’ll be a very contrite corpse. Maybe Carol was going through the same thing. Maybe she saw Karen and David when she closed her eyes.

Daryl wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her it didn’t matter. That he didn’t even care, not really. He would trade them all for her. He wanted to tell her that he was a killer, too, but they all were just trying to figure out the right thing, but he was so numb, and so tired of trying, and he didn’t think it would help.

They were talking back and forth now, and he was robotically answering her. Maybe she was robotically asking him, and the whole conversation was on autopilot. She came up to him and handed him a knife. It was Beth’s, and he took it, weakened by the reminder of his shame.

“We’re not dead,” she said almost in a whisper, “That’s what you said.”

She looked at him, and instead of focusing on her lips he looked into her eyes as she spoke to him - the eyes that he was in love with. She was telling him he had to feel the pain, and he could see her kindness reflected in her face. She was caring for him, and he felt like his Carol was still in there, and maybe things would be okay, eventually.

She reached up and brushed the hair from his face, and despite himself a surge of feelings made him shudder, and their eyes locked for a moment. He thought she was going to kiss him, and he would let her. She pulled his head down to her lips, but they didn’t meet his...she kissed him very tenderly on the forehead, and released him. He stared at her for a moment and then she walked away.

It was not what he wanted, but it was what he needed, and she seemed to know that. He wondered if things could ever be better.


	6. The Sixth Kiss

_Fuck._

_FUCK._

Blood had dripped into a small pool into the carpet of the RV. Glenn was glancing worriedly from Daryl to Carol and back at Daryl – motioning with his eyes so Daryl would see. No one broke the silence. Daryl saw the blood dripping from Carol’s hand. _What the fuck is this? Was she bit? Cut?_

No, she was squeezing a rosary so tightly it was cutting her hand, and she wasn’t letting it go. He tried to ease it out of her hand and she finally snapped out of it and released her grip, but then seemed upset that he had taken it. He took it from her pulling a rag from his pocket, and wiping it and then gently dabbing at her hand as she stared off into space. When he released her hand she clenched her fist and held it tightly to her chest. He wrapped the rosary up into his rag and tucked it into the pocket on her pants.

He locked eyes with Glenn who was sitting across from him, Maggie dozing fitfully on his shoulder.

Those bastards had captured Carol and Maggie, and Daryl had tracked them down, but maybe not soon enough. Carol was not okay. Why did I leave her alone? He had thought she was safe when she stayed back with Maggie and was relieved she wasn’t going into the fight with them, but then…

“I need it back,” Carol said loudly, stunning everyone.

“Put it in yer pocket,” Daryl said, “It’s fine.”

Daryl and Glenn exchanged glances.

She started panicking, and shouting for Daryl to give it back.

“I think she’s in shock,” Maggie said, waking up. She picked up her bag and rummaged through it pulling out a bottle, “Give her these.” Carol quieted and listened to what they were saying.

Daryl took the bottle. It was sleeping pills. Maggie said, “I used to take them when things were really bad, I can’t now, anyway.” She touched her belly, to reference the baby but he could tell she was worried about that, too, “Keep them.”

Daryl nodded, popping a couple of pills into his hand, “Carol, you need to take these.”

She did without arguing. Her eyes looked blankly through him.

By the time they reached Alexandria Carol was asleep.

He carried her out of the RV. She was like a baby doll in his arms, and his heart was in a strange place. He felt like he could be smothered by his love for her. He remembered carrying her out of the tombs, so many memories. Here he was carrying her out of another horrible situation, another time she was ripped away from him. He didn’t know how to hold onto her, and he didn’t know how much he could stand this.

He took her to his room because there was no way he was going to leave her alone to wake up in a panic. He unlaced her boots and covered her with a blanket. He got some water, and some crackers in case she woke up and placed them next to the bed. Daryl was exhausted but he needed to talk to Rick still so he left her sleeping in his bed.

Rick was in the living room looking dazed.

“Is Carol alright?” Rick asked.

“Dunno,” Daryl responded, and then shook his head “No, I don’t think so, but she didn’t wake up.”

Rick sighed, “Are you alright?”

Daryl chewed the inside of his mouth trying to think of an answer, “I don’t think I’m alright either.”

“Do you think that’s it? It’s done?” Rick asked.

“I hope so,” Daryl said but he knew things weren’t usually that simple.

“We have stuff to talk about,” Rick said, “but why are you here. Go be with Carol. She needs you. I’m going to go be with Michonne, because I need her.”

“Awright,” Daryl said, somewhat stung. He felt dead on his feet, but he was scared of Carol. She had already been pushing him away, and now this happened...he didn’t even know what she might have encountered in that place. He didn’t know what he was going to deal with or how he could.

He retreated back to his room and she was still sleeping, water and food was untouched. She was in the deep sleep that drugs could induce. Daryl was half tempted to take one himself, but he needed to be alert if anything happened so he just scooted in next to her on the bed. It was still early enough in the day that the sun was streaming through the windows. He wondered vaguely if someone got his bike...surely someone had, but he had forgotten about it.

His bed was pushed up against the wall and she was sleeping on the inside, which was good, he thought, because she couldn’t sneak out while he was sleeping. He realized he did have to worry about her sneaking out. It was still a thing constantly on his mind. Her running away and leaving him again. He could feel her body heat next to him, and it wasn’t bad, not at all.

They’d been so distant lately it was sometimes hard for him to remember how close they’d once been – not so long ago. She’d been someone he wanted to kiss and caress, and now? He saw her once in awhile. She made him food quite a lot, and he helped her out with certain chores but otherwise they barely saw each other. They didn’t talk, and they weren’t close. She was so different than the woman he was in love with.

He hated this place – Alexandria – but at the same time knew it wasn’t the place. It was just easier to have something tangible to direct his anger. It was her. Something was missing in her, and it was killing him to see her in passing and not be able to reach her. He still loved her, and still wanted to protect her, but he was waiting for her to come around, and she wasn’t coming around. He had no idea how to fix this.

He closed his eyes.

 

When he awoke the room was dark, but soft moonlight cascaded in from the full moon, he could feel her moving beside him.

He turned his head to see if she was okay, “Carol? It’s me. Yer safe.”

She didn’t say anything to him but laid her head on his chest, and was still. Daryl didn’t know if she’d fallen back asleep. He wrapped his arm around her. She felt so warm. Horrible circumstances but she was cuddled up to him, he had his arm around her, and it was everything.

He could feel her breathing, in and out softly, too softly.

“You awake?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

“You okay?”

She didn’t answer. The minutes stretched on and he started thinking maybe she did drift off, but then she said, “I like this.”

Daryl smiled to himself. He liked this, too. This is how it should have always been, but he didn’t say anything, and didn’t dare move a muscle, to break the spell.

After a while she started fidgeting and rolled away from him and sat up, and Daryl was disappointed. He instantly missed her curled up next to him, but he didn’t have the courage to pull her back. He sat up next to her. He was going to tell her that there was some water if she needed it. He was going to offer the crackers, but she turned toward him and her face was less than an inch from his. His heart quickened.

He knew this wasn’t the right time, but he had been fighting feelings for so long. He wasn’t sure what to do, and while he was trying to decide _if_ he should kiss her she brushed her lips against his, as if she was also deciding but hadn’t fully committed.

She fully pressed her lips to his, and he responded. He sighed into her, hoping that this wasn’t some kind of a dream. _God, he had wanted her for so long._ This was the girl he knew so well, that he had longed for many nights. She was the one he pictured himself with. She was the one he ached for.

She pushed into him and he laid back on the bed and surprised him when she climbed on top of him, kissing him, touching his face, consuming him. He felt like she was fire, and he wanted to burn with her. He ran his hands up her back marveling at the feel of her skin, and she jerked away.

She immediately moved up against the wall, as far as she could get from him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, genuinely thinking he’d hurt her.

“I can’t do this,” she stated, flatly.

“It’s...okay,” Daryl tried to take her hand and she pulled it away and crossed her arms, “Just, we’ll lay down and get sleep. You need sleep. It’s been rough, I shouldn’t of...”

“No,” Carol said, “You didn’t do anything. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me.”

“Yer fine,” he said softly, “It’s been a hard day. A horrible, horrible day.”

“It has,” Carol said, holding back.

“Lying here with you made it a little better though,” he ventured.

Carol started crying.

He sat up and put his arms around her, and she stiffened. He just wanted to hold her. He wished he could bear the pain for her, because he would. If he could make things right he would carry any kind of suffering so that things could be alright, because he knew if he had her then he could withstand anything.

“Let’s be together,” Daryl said quietly.

“I can’t, Daryl,” she said.

“Why not,” he asked wandering dangerously out of his comfort zone, “We need each other.”

“Because,” Carol took a deep breath, “Because...I’m with someone else.”

Daryl felt his world crumble around him as the coin landed on tails.

He didn’t mean to, but he reflexively pulled away from her, and she started sobbing harder. There were not any other words she could have spoken that could have so swiftly wounded him.

“His name is Tobin...” she said quietly.

“I don’t care what his goddamn name is,” Daryl growled, “Why did you even...”

“I don’t know, I was confused,” she said, “I’m still confused.”

Daryl put his head in his hands. He wanted to know so many things, and ask so many questions, but, of course, he didn’t really want to know any of it. He stood up, and said mechanically “There’s water there for ya, and some food if yer hungry.” and he left the room, closing the door behind him.

He could hear her crying beyond the door, but what could he do? He went into the living room and after tossing and turning, eventually dozed off on the couch. In the morning she was gone. His heart felt empty.

Daryl was missing her so much, their rift seemed larger than ever. He hadn’t talked to her since that day - which filled him with guilt. He knew he should be there for her, but didn’t know how. He saw her smoking on an unfamiliar porch, once, and that was it. He felt sick to see her there, and he wasn’t used to seeing her smoke. It was all so strange. _Who was_ _she_ _?_

Two days passed and she wandered up to him while he was at his porch. She sat next to him. He tensed up, worried about what she would say. She was acting like nothing happened. So, Daryl acted like nothing happened. He could do this if that’s what she needed him to do. Even if he was absolutely heartbroken.


	7. The First 6 Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 7 hasn't aired so I had to make it up as it worked for me.

Carol was gone, dead. _His Carol._ _Dead_

No funeral to say goodbye, nothing, just nothingness.

He couldn’t process it.

They never even had a _damn chance_ together. Daryl had lost too many people, and he was having trouble finding a reason to keep going. They were on the road. He was just putting one foot in front of the other, but he couldn’t care less where he was going.

When he was kidnapped by the group led by the bat wielding madman he knew there wasn’t much chance of him getting out. All he’d thought while locked up was Carol. Would he ever see her face again? He remembered the 6 kisses between them, in detail, keeping him going even with the pain of being shot. He could see her eyes in his mind, happy eyes, teary eyes, big blue beautiful eyes and he’d memorized each emotion. All she had to do was flash him a look for him to know her mood.

That psychopath had brutally murdered Glenn. After, he remembered seeing Maggie sobbing and feeling so guilty, but at the same time so relieved that Carol wasn’t there, and that he was going home to her, and that he was going to make it work between them. There was no more time to be worried, he needed to lay everything out on the table. Time was too short in this world, and he loved her, and maybe she loved him.

In the balancing act of life Maggie had lost, and so Daryl would have another chance with Carol, but when he returned she was gone, just as he knew she might be one day. He was shattered. Rick saw him, and put an arm around his shoulder and brought him inside.

Rick handed him the letter she left behind. Daryl read it quickly, crumpled it up and threw it across the room. Rick was trying to talk to him, tell him something. He put his hand on Daryl’s shoulder which Daryl shrugged off walking swiftly to pick up the note that he’d tossed, and read it again. His heart ached.

“I went out to look for her,” Rick said, “With Morgan.”

Daryl tensed, waiting for the bad news, while he carefully smoothed out the note, folded it up and tucked it into his pocket.

“Morgan stayed out there.”

“We gotta go out there,” Daryl said.

“You’re in no shape to...”

“She’s somewhere, we gotta find her,” Daryl tried to sound assertive but he could hear the desperate tone in his voice, “I’m the best tracker.”

“Morgan is very good,” Rick said, “Remember he tracked me from Atlanta. But...”

“What?” Daryl said. He felt defeated, knowing he didn’t want to hear the next thing.

“We were following her trail. Daryl, it was a blood trail. I am not sure she could have survived the loss of that much blood,” Rick said, “One way or the other Morgan would have found her, but he hasn’t come back...”

Daryl broke down. Everything was too much. _One way or the other._ He really didn’t have the strength to follow her but he would die trying, even though knew in his heart she was gone because you don’t get that many chances, you just don’t. His luck had finally run out. Rick tried to console him but the pain was too much.

“Let’s wait and see if Morgan comes back,” Rick pleaded.

Daryl nodded, unable to speak.

But, of course, Morgan never came back.

 

Daryl trudged on along the road. One foot in front of the other. Everyone avoided him by this point, and that’s how he wanted it. He didn’t want to be close to anyone. He didn’t like their sympathetic stares. It felt like a mockery. _What had he even lost?_ Something he never had.

Rosita came up and walked next to Daryl. He eyed her warily.

“She was brave,” Rosita said, keeping her eyes forward.

Daryl grunted his ascent, hoping she would move on.

“She fought Morgan, you know, all by herself. She didn’t want me to tell anyone, but I guess it doesn’t matter now since they’re both gone,” she admitted.

“What?” Daryl growled. He could feel fire burning in his gut, regardless of the fact that there was no one to punish, “Why would she fight Morgan?”

“Morgan was keeping one of those Wolves captive, trying to rehabilitate him or something,” Rosita spat, “He even involved Denise.”

Daryl’s anger surged, but he had nowhere to direct it, “Why are you telling me this?”

“I admired her for that,” Rosita said, “I think you are mad at her for leaving, but she was not running away. I don’t think so because she was brave. I thought you might need to hear that since she was your chick.”

“She wasn’t my _chick_ ” Daryl said quietly, the pain washing over him anew.

“Sometimes love goes beyond labels, you know?” Rosita said. She squeezed his shoulder and walked on, leaving him to think about things.

 

After traveling nearly the entire day they arrived at their destination. It seemed a mistake, to Daryl, to go on foot, but Rick was paranoid about driving the roads since Glenn’s death, and that Negan bastard had taken their RV.

Jesus turned to them as they approached a school, “that’s it, ahead.”

Hell, it didn’t look like anything special. Daryl sighed. He was fuckin’ tired.

They were welcomed inside by a couple of guys dressed ridiculously. Daryl couldn’t stop rolling his eyes, whenever he saw another one of them. Which they did since they were taken to a room where they were supposed to meet the leader, some Ezekiel. Daryl didn’t care, just wanted to get this over with so they could go back home. At this point, he knew they were going to have to stay the night there, and he was none too happy about the prospect. They were trying to work together with these guys to fight Negan, and get rid of him once and for all, which was necessary work, and Daryl did want to see Negan suffer for killing Glenn.

They waited in a big room, for the leader to appear. It seemed like most, if not all, of this community were milling about in the room, or doing jobs. Their group was given some food and drinks. Daryl was starving so he ate very quickly, and then looked around the room eying the strangely dressed people that inhabited this place. “Assholes,” he mumbled.

He heard Rick say, “Damn!”

He looked to see him embracing a man. Daryl narrowed his eyes.

It was Morgan. His anger flared, but he also had a surge of hopeful panic. He scanned quickly around the room for her little silver head. No. She wasn’t there. _Of fucking course she wasn’t there._ His heart sank, and as his sadness overtook him so did his rage.

Morgan made his way toward Daryl with an odd expression on his face. Daryl jumped at him knocking him to the floor.

“Bastard,” Daryl said as he punched Morgan in the jaw.

“Daryl!” Morgan shouted after the initial shock of being knocked down he blocked Daryl’s next punch, “Daryl, calm down.”

He was incapable of calming down. He wrestled with Morgan on the ground, and Daryl realized that Morgan might be actually a better fighter than he was when he was thrown to the side. He wasn’t hurt, not even his ego, but he still wanted to fight. He seethed with all the anger and frustration he’d been holding inside.

Morgan got up and walked toward Daryl standing over him with an outstretched arm. Daryl glared at him. Unwilling to accept the help from him.

“Suit yourself,” Morgan said, withdrawing his hand, “I’m not saying I didn’t deserve that, for many reasons, but life is too short to fight people that I like. There are more important things right now.”

“Fuck you,” Daryl growled.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, “You helped me find Rick, and for that I owe you one.”

Daryl stood up, not meeting Morgan’s gaze with his hands clenched at his side.

“Today, maybe I can help repay that. Carol is here,” Morgan said, smiling.

“Carol is...here?” Daryl said, hearing his own voice break as he said it.

“I know she would want to see you,” Morgan said to Daryl, “I’ll take you to her.”

They walked along the corridor, Morgan talking happily about things, Daryl barely hearing a word the man said.

“Sorry fer punchin’ ya,” he growled. He wasn’t entirely happy with Morgan but he was leading him to Carol, and for that he would be forever grateful. Morgan continued talking and he started to talk about her, about how he found her. That she’d been shot – twice.

Daryl interrupted his speech, “Is she okay? She’s….gonna heal?”

“Yes,” Morgan said, and continued to tell him all about her treatment, and her mental state, and so many things Daryl was having trouble keeping up since he was only thinking about the miracle that she was alive, and somehow afraid that the rug would be pulled out from under him, that this wasn’t true. He’d already mourned her, was still mourning her until he saw her with his own eyes.

“There’s something you need to know,” Morgan said, stopping, and turning to Daryl, “When I found her she was in a bad place. She wanted to die. She was at her lowest. She’s getting better, but she’s still not….there.”

Daryl furrowed his brow. He very much knew she was not right for a very long time, but unsure of what Morgan mean by she wanted to die, that made him feel panicked to think about. Did she try to commit suicide? _What did that mean? Was he now going to have to watch that she didn’t run away or kill herself._

Morgan continued, “I don’t know how she will feel with you being here. She tolerates me, not well at all some days, but mostly she wants to stay alone. She thinks…I think shes afraid that she can’t protect people, and they will die.”

Daryl was trying to take all this in. He didn’t know how he would be able to talk to her. His mind was racing. She left, and never came back, but she was injured and had wanted to die. His heart was beating so fast. What if she out-rightly rejected him?

Daryl decided to stand back and let her talk, and if she wanted to come to him she would. If she wanted him to leave, he’d try to convince her otherwise, but if he couldn’t convince her then he’d leave her to be happy by herself.

The thought made him sad, but at least she was alive, and he wanted her to be happy. He would be whatever she needed him to be, even if it was someone who she no longer wanted around. He could lift the burden of himself off of her if she needed that.

Morgan stopped in front of a closed door, and turned to Daryl, saying quietly, “That’s her room. One last thing...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the last chapter :D


	8. The Seventh Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Daryl waited impatiently for Morgan to tell him the one last thing, as he was pausing for dramatic effect or _some bullshit_. It was almost too much for Daryl to listen to Morgan droning on with Carol so close. Daryl sighed impatiently.

Morgan looked as if he was trying to figure out how to word what he was going to say, but finally continued, “She loves you. She might push you away to protect you...and you...you are someone who will take that as a rejection. Fight for her.”

Daryl furrowed his brow, wanting to protest, but knowing that’s exactly how he’d feel if she pushed him. He was prepared to leave forever if she didn’t want him. Daryl nodded.

“I’ll leave you, now,” Morgan said, and turned and left. Daryl watched him walk down the hall, suddenly so scared to open that door.

He knocked.

“Come in,” her voice sounded tiny.

Daryl opened the door.

He heard a small gasp. He turned and she was there. _His Carol_ was sitting in a chair across the room, her hand covering her mouth, obviously as surprised to see him as he was to see her. He thought she was gone forever, _dead even_ , and here she was in front of him. She was wearing a nightgown, and he could see her arm and leg wrapped in bandages. She had been reading a book.

His feet felt like lead but he managed to bridge the distance between them, falling on his knees at her feet. He didn’t even think, he just had to go to her. He couldn’t look at her as his eyes burned hot with unshed tears, but he felt her fingers gently running through his hair. He heard her say, “Daryl?” She sounded bewildered.

“Thought I lost ya,” he said quietly.

Tossing aside the book, she dropped out of the chair, kneeling face to face in front of him. She brushed the hair out of his face trying to comfort him, guilt written on her face, “I’m so sorry.”

He was so overrun with emotion that he was having trouble even looking at her. He tenderly touched the bandage on her arm, and the other on her leg, “Jesus,” he sighed. He noticed this was like some sort of hospital room. He touched her arm again, “Are you… okay?”

“The pain is better, and I can walk a little now. I’m gonna have a limp, I think,” Carol said.

“Ya left me,” Daryl said - his voice wavering and betraying his emotion, “Why? How can I protect ya if ya run away?”

Daryl broke down and Carol pulled him close and she cradled him in her arms, whispering, “I’m sorry,” over and over to sooth him.

Carol holding him in that moment was everything to him, but he had so many fears, and doubts, that he pulled back, feeling the need to put things out on the table.

 

_He flipped the coin._

 

“I love ya,” he said, staring at the ground, but then got the courage to look into her eyes. He had to see if she felt the same. He repeated, “I love you.” This time gazing straight into her eyes.

Carol didn’t respond, but she bit her lip. Daryl’s heart sank.

“Why did you leave me?” Daryl groaned.

“I didn’t leave you,” Carol replied quietly, “I mean, I did, and I’m sorry that it hurt you, but I wasn’t trying to get away from you...I thought it would be better for you if I left.”

“No,” Daryl said, burying his head into Carol’s shoulder, “I need ya.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” she said as she absently curled her fingers in he hair.

They sat like that for awhile and then he pulled away to look at her. She averted her eyes, and stared hard at the wall.

“I know you, and yer not bad,” Daryl touching her chin so she’d meet his eye again, “I know you.”

“You don’t know...I’ve killed 24 people..that I can remember...maybe more...” tears filled her eyes.

Daryl frowned, “Is that how you feel about me, that I’m some horrible killer?”

“What?” Carol said at the misunderstanding, “No, you’re too good. You’re _honorable_.”

“Well, I’ve killed a helluva lot more than 24 people, and I sure as hell haven’t kept count.”

Carol seemed to take this into consideration for a moment, and he could see her weaken in front of him with some kind of realization.Carol sighed, “There’s so much more.”

“Do ya love _him_?” Daryl asked the question he never wanted to ask.

Carol paused for a long time on this question, “No.”

Daryl took a deep breath.

“Do ya love _me_?” he looked at her with hopeful eyes.

Carol smiled sheepishly and looked down.

“You know I do,” she said quietly, “I love you more than anything.”

“I honest to God, cross my heard, did not know,” Daryl said with a sudden smile, “I hoped for it.”

Their eyes met. Her beautiful eyes sparkled and there was a blush to her cheek as she said, “Well...now you know.” Silence filled the room.

Daryl reached over and took her hand, feeling very overwhelmed with emotion but comfortable with her silence. She seemed to be mulling over some things in her mind and that was good. He had a lot of questions, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“I have to get up, my leg is so sore down here on this floor” Carol said.

Daryl stood up, reaching down to carry her, and realizing he didn’t have the strength with his gunshot wound to his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Got shot, too,” Daryl said, “In the shoulder.”

“Oh, Daryl,” she said, tears threatening to fall again.

“Won’t be able to carry you over to the bed, like I wanted to,” Daryl said and then blushed immediately up to the tips of his ears, “didn’t mean that how it sounded.”

Carol giggled, and it was the sweetest sound. _When was the last time he’d heard her giggle?_ “It’s okay, Pookie, your honor is intact,” she said through teary but smiling eyes.

He helped her walk over to her bed, tucked her in, and sat next to her on the edge of the bed, taking her hand, tracing light circles over her palm. He didn’t know exactly what everything meant between them right now, but he felt good about it. There was a lot he had to say to her, but he hoped they would have a long time together for him to tell her what he needed to.

“I need to see it,” Carol said, pointing at his gun shot wound.

Daryl was a little shy about taking off his shirt. Not that she’d not seen him before without it, just that he always was self conscious about it. He watched her concerned face as she saw that he was bandaged up and she made a little whimper She sat up to examine the dressing, touching where the wound was reverently, and said, “Here?” He nodded, feeling his pulse quicken. She leaned over and kissed him on his bandage where the wound would be, and then rested her head on the center of his chest, wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. _Could she feel how fast his heart was beating?_

Carol turned her eyes toward his, and he knew it was his moment. He gently cupped her chin and bent his head to meet her lips. Kissing her was so easy he wondered why he hadn’t kissed her on the farm and every day since. He pulled back and looked at her, his lip curling into hisshy half smile. Carol was the one who went in for a second kiss, and this time they melted together.Daryl thought that she tasted like everything he ever wanted.

 

 

Later, lying in bed together, Daryl holds his whole world in his arms with her cuddled up to him. She is sleeping deeply and he hates to unravel himself from her but his arm has fallen asleep. He considers just letting it die and fall off, but it’s too uncomfortable now that he’s woken up from his light dozing.

He is almost floored by his own feelings as he realized this is happening _to him_. She is his now, and he is the luckiest man on earth. She promised not to leave him ever again, and most of all they gave themselves to each other, and he thought it was beautiful. He felt like she was part of him now, the best part, and he was so proud.

He slipped out of bed carefully so as not to disturb her.

He fumbled around in the moonlight looking for his pants – abandoned on the floor - and retrieved his cigarettes and matches from the pocket. Placing a cigarette between his lips, he stared out the window as he lit a match.

“Can’t smoke in here, Dixon,” her voice said sleepily.

“Wasn’t for me,” Daryl said with a smile, “Thought you liked to smoke after.”

She laughed, “come back to bed.”

“Fine,” he said blowing out the match, and putting the cigarette back in the pack.

“You have a cute butt,” she teased.

“Stop.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but notice the full moon.”

“Stop,” Daryl laughed. “Your jokes are ridiculous you know.”

“You love them,” she said.

Daryl didn’t respond, but he was smiling.

As he walked back to the bed he tripped on his discarded boots and caught himself on the bedside table which went toppling over. It hurt his shoulder like hell, and he cursed.

“Are you alright?” Carol asked.

“My ego is a little sore,” Daryl said, “Feelin’ clumsy in front of a pretty lady.”

She laughed.

He set the table back up and then began picking up the items that fell on the floor. He saw a coin, shining brightly in the moonlight, a silver dollar – heads up.

He picked it up.

“What’s this about?” He said returning to bed, and snuggling into her. They had no use for money so no one really bothered to carry any.

She took the coin from his hand, showing him both sides, “Look. It’s a trick. Both sides are heads. Forever lucky. Thought it was neat so I kept it.”

Daryl smiled, “I like that.”

He kissed her, and he was amazed at how natural it felt – like coming home after a long day. Their 7th kiss had been the one that brought them together and it was forever lucky. He knew that he would lose track of their kisses from this point on, and he was okay with that. It was _most definitely_ _fine by him_ _._

 

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know how you liked this!

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments <3


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